


Nesting Dolls

by imaginary_iby



Series: Alika [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Fatherhood, M/M, Team Ohana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After six months away with the Navy, it's time for Steve to return home.  Nobody is more excited than his son, little Alika - but sometimes settling back in to reality is a rocky road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nesting Dolls

With a sigh, Danny rests his head on his pillow, burrowing in. Sleep is a lost cause and he knows it, but the heaviness of his lids bids him to at least try.

Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for the bedroom door to slam open. Little feet storm across the floor, and the bed groans when a tiny body – tiny, but growing bigger every day – flings onto the mattress.

“Daddy daddy daddy,” Alika says breathlessly, gathering a pillow up into a bear hug, as though trying to expel energy. “I’m sorry sorry sorry. Can’t sleep.” Sure enough, his eyes are as wide as saucers, and even though he’d been in his pyjamas not ten minutes ago, he’s dressed once more.

Shoes, socks, jeans and a T, the whole shebang. He’s even wearing his glasses, big round frames perched haphazardly on the edge of his nose. Hastily, Danny plucks them to safety, resting them with a snick on the bedside table. They go through glasses at an alarming speed - chaotic children and fragile frames are a bad mix, and Danny isn’t made of money.

“Baby, you need to sleep,” he says, weighing up whether more malted milk is worth the possibility of a nighttime accident. All of three years and ten months, Alika has been making leaps and bounds, but the last few weeks have been stressful.

“Can’t, can’t sleep,” Alika protests, the S whistling through the gaps in his teeth. “Daddy daddy daddy,” he chants, though this time he’s not talking to Danny. He stands up on the mattress, wobbling a little until Danny hooks an arm around his waist, and he’s just tall enough to press his nose to the window behind the bed. 

He looks out at the ocean, eyes somehow even wider than before. “Daddy,” he calls, casting his gaze out at the sea. 

It’s a game, of sorts, something Danny has encouraged to help Alika through the months of Steve’s absence. The vastness of the world had been too much, the prospect of his father away in distant lands too frightening. After weeks of tears, Danny’s solution had been to point through the bedroom window and say, “Out there, baby, out there. Daddy’s on a big ship, and one day his ship will come home.”

Ever since, the horizon has been nothing short of an obsession, a focal-point for Alika to connect to. Every morning before kinder, it was essential that at least ten minutes be devoted to peering through the bedroom window.

“Daddy,” Alika calls again, somewhat mournfully this time.

Danny tightens his grip around that little waist, tugs him down into the cocoon of warmth beneath the covers. “I’m right here,” he whispers, rubbing the small of Alika’s back. “And tomorrow we’re all going to go to the base, to pick Daddy up.”

Alika sniffles. “He’s not coming in on the big ship?”

“No, baby. He wanted to get home as fast as he could, so he took a plane instead.” Danny arches a hand through the air, miming a smooth landing. “Brrrrrrrrrrm goes the engine, and then eee-eee-eee go the brakes.” Engine-noises always cheer Alika up, and sometimes he’s so much like Steve that it makes Danny’s chest ache.

Alika giggles, waving his hands through the air, landing planes all over the place. It doesn’t take long for him to tire, though Danny doubts that those droopy lids will stay droopy for long.

Truth of it is, a good night’s sleep was probably never on the cards. Not with the excitement that’s been rolling through his belly, ever since Steve announced that he was on his way home.

As soon as Danny had hung up the phone, it was as though everything that he’d felt in the last few months had compressed, packed into his chest in one big wallop. 

All of those moments when he’d caught himself staring out at the ocean, lost in a daze. All of those hours spent soothing Alika, inconsolable and tiny, a precious parcel that passed between loved ones, so that Danny could get some sleep. All of those mornings when he woke alone, frisky and sad and wanting more than anything to roll over into that warm wall of muscle. 

So it was probably inevitable that he and Alika spend their last night alone in a state of excitement and nerves.

“Love you, Daddy,” Alika mumbles, and Danny draws him closer.

\- 

The alarm is a waste of time. After a light doze, Alika’s shrieks of glee still beat the clock by a good hour.

He’s almost vibrating with happiness, and he thumps Danny out of bed with pudgy fingers. “Get up!” he orders. Danny doesn’t quite have the heart to discuss manners. Not today. 

The slam of the front door signals Kono’s early arrival, and Danny’s pleased that he can now have a shower without worrying that the house will burn down.

Alika’s off like a shot. 

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Danny scurries after him. “Easy on the stairs there, buddy.”

Dutifully Alika slows, rolling his eyes as though the burden of cautious parents is such a drag. His patience wanes by the time he reaches the bottom, the sight of Kono, (and the box of pastries in her hands) tempting him greatly. He flings himself up at her, and she drops the box just in time to catch him. 

“Today’s the day, little man!” she cheers, and Alika laughs.

“You got him?” Danny calls, hovering at the top of the stairs. “I’m gonna…” he hooks a thumb over his shoulder, and Kono waves a hand at him in reply. 

Danny would deny it, but he scurries to the bathroom with the same excitement as his son. A speedy shower, scrub scrub scrub, and then a flash shave. He nicks himself, more than a few times, before he forces himself to calm the hell down - bits of tissue stuck to his jaw will really cramp his kissing style. Grey pants, and that tight yellow button down that Steve loves so much, and then he’s done, fresh and ready.

Chin’s SUV rolls up right on time, and they all pile in, Alika clambering into his car-seat with enthusiasm. The fact that Chin’s car has its very own kid-seat speaks volumes on how much the team has helped over the last few months. Danny has to swallow down the lump in his throat.

It’s a quick trip to Pearl-Hickam, and it doesn’t take long for Alika to stop his excitable babbling and stare, fascinated, at all the men and women in uniform. Something about the prints makes him quiet, has done so ever since the first time Alika saw Steve decked out in camouflage – the morning that he left. 

Chin slows the car for a checkpoint, and a tall man dressed in green walks past the window. Tattoos peek out from the edges of his sleeves, cropped brown hair sitting neatly beneath his cap, and he looks so much like Steve that Alika startles, his breath wheezed in and held tight.

Kono pats his knee, and Danny can’t help but feel grateful that his team can read his son like a book. “That’s not Dad,” she says, breaking the news gently.

Alika droops, expelling air with a dreary sigh, but when the car begins to move again he goes back to looking out the windows.

“Ah, there she is,” Chin murmurs, nodding ahead at the sight of Cath. She cuts a tall blue figure against the gloomy grey of the airstrip behind her, and Chin takes a left and coasts to a stop by her side.

Just as Danny suspected, it doesn’t take long for Alika to wind up in her arms. She’s the only person that he sees in uniform on a regular basis, so he nestles into her side with ease, fingers fiddling with her lieutenant’s bars. 

“Hey,” she greets cheerily, tilting her head so that the baby can investigate the bits and pieces on her collar. “His plane should be arriving in about five minutes.” Alika wriggles in her arms, obviously wanting to be let down, but she keeps a firm grip on him. “No way, mister, there’s too many cars and trucks running around.”

Alika looks geared to argue, but he quickly gives in at the sight of so many stern expressions on the adults in his life.

Cath guides the troop along the airstrip’s chain-link fence, coming to a stop at a patch of concrete, long overgrown by weeds. It’s far enough away from the hubbub that Alika could be let down, but he shows no particular interest. “We can wait here,” Cath says, “and watch for his plane.”

By this time, Alika has switched his focus to the happenings on the airstrip. Buggies zip along routes on the tarmac, and in the distance a Globemaster is being loaded with crates. Danny’s not sure what to do with the fact that he can recognize a Globemaster from a Galaxy, and when Cath announces that Steve’s coming in on a C-130, the image in his head is startlingly vivid.

All eyes turn to the sky, and for the first time in days Alika is still, frozen with anticipation. Awash in his own happiness, Danny has the presence of mind to grab Alika’s prescription sunglasses from his shirt pocket – he slides them on over that little button nose, and Alika spares him a, “Thanks Daddy,” before returning his gaze to the sky.

The cloud-cover is heavy, lumpy and roiling, but suddenly a peek of slate grey emerges from the gloom. Expansive wings cut through the sky, turning with surprising grace, and the plane begins to angle towards the landing strip.

“Here we are, ma’am!” a voice calls from behind the group. A sailor jogs up, passing Cath a springy set of big black earmuffs. It takes a bit of coordination - and a lot of scowling on Alika’s part - but they manage to finagle them over Alika’s ears and make them hold steady. They’re pretty far away from the action, but better to be safe than sorry.

“Aunty Cath!” Alika shouts, unable to gauge his volume with the earmuffs on. “Danno, please!” He reaches out imploringly, and Cath transfers him smoothly into Danny’s arms.

The plane is closer now, a heavy presence in the sky, and Danny can’t help but take a step forward, hoisting Alika high on his hip and pressing against the fence. 

“Brrrrrrrrrm, brrrrrrrrrrm, eeeee-eeeeee-eeeeeee!” Alika rumbles and squeaks, greeting the dulled noises from the tarmac with noises of his own.

Sure enough, the wheels of the C-130 touch down with a screech, Danny’s heart vibrating in his chest from the power of the engine. The plane grinds to a stop, so much speedier than its size would indicate, and Alika wriggles with the urgent need to run to it.

Cath smiles apologetically, rescuing Alika from his earmuffs. “You can’t go on the tarmac, sorry guys. But it won’t be long.”

They pass the time with numerous dramatic re-enactments of the landing, a group of happy fools making engine noises, all adult dignity shelved in the face of an anxiously excitable baby. They’re so busy waving their hands through the air, miming take-off, that it’s a shock when Steve’s voice calls over the din.

He’s come up from behind them, obviously having exited the airstrip and looped around the grassy fields. A stupidly happy smile is plastered across his face, and he holds his arms out in greeting.

At Cath’s okay, Danny sets Alika down, patting him on the bum as his little legs propel him forward. He gets about halfway towards to Steve, and then as quickly as he started, he stops. Arms mid-swing, one little boot held off the ground, he’s frozen like a statue.

Silent seconds pass, broken only by the hum of machinery in the background. Steve’s smile falters. He looks up, catches Danny’s gaze, a worried expression swiftly overtaking his features.

Alika bursts into tears. 

His legs give out on him, and he lands clumsily on his bum in the dirt. It’s as though all the excitement has exhausted him, so much emotion thrumming through his little body that he’s finally overloaded. He shakes with sobs, face red, eyes scrunched tight behind his glasses, even as sheets of tears stream down his cheeks. 

Chin and Kono, Cath and Danny and Steve, they swarm towards the trembling fallen figure. Steve reaches him first, swooping down into the dirt and gathering Alika into his arms. He doesn’t bother to stand up, just settles on his knees as Alika sobs and slobbers all over his neck, snot smearing across the oak leaf on his collar. 

Danny drops to his knees by their side, wincing a little at the pain that spikes through his left leg. “You should’ve seen him five minutes ago!” he shouts, because he’s happy and he doesn’t care if the whole world knows it. “He was as giddy as anything!”

“Happy,” Alika gurgles, fists gripping the green of Steve’s uniform tightly. He laughs, piercing shrieks that would give the plane’s brakes a run for their money, before returning to sobbing against Steve’s neck. “Happy.”

He doesn’t look it, but then again, Danny supposes, babies and emotions are funny things.

Case in point – it takes about three minutes of inconsolable hysteria before Alika falls fast asleep. His face is wet and red and sticky, lips slobbery and lashes clumped with tears. He’s not the only one – there’s a distinctly red tinge to Steve’s eyes, and Danny has to brush his hands across his face more than once. 

“Hi,” Steve says stupidly, giddy and shell-shocked. 

“Hey,” Danny returns, and he can’t even bear to think about what he looks like, plonked in the dirt with a goof and a team and a sleepy baby.

As one, Cath and Chin and Kono groan, loud and fed up, like they just know that a stupid number of kisses is about to be exchanged. “Oh, here we go!” Kono teases, even as Chin reaches up to cover her innocent rookie eyes.

“Cool your jets, Kalakaua.” Danny flaps a hand at her, leaning in to brush his lips against Steve’s. Steve’s lips are warm and a little chapped, and Danny darts his tongue out to wet them. It takes a great deal of restraint, but he pulls back when Steve leans forward. 

“Later,” Danny says, nodding at their friends. “Prying eyes. And you’ll regret making out with me on base once your brain starts working again.”

Steve can only nod, pulling back. He’s a stubborn bastard, refusing to wipe his eyes. He blinks rapidly and eventually manages to school himself.

“You got all your stuff?” Cath asks, giving Steve something else to focus on. She scans the ground for Steve’s missing bags. 

Steve nods, a tiny movement designed to keep Alika asleep. “Yeah, dropped it all off by the car. Just got to head through the office for the paperwork.” He turns to Danny, looking apologetic. “Won’t take long.”

Danny holds his arms out. “Want me to take him?”

Steve’s flinch is subtle, but he’s surrounded by family with highly trained eyes, so everybody notices. He cuddles Alika to his chest, warm and tight, the way they used to swaddle him as a colicky baby. “No, I’m good.”

\- 

“Max is sorry he couldn’t make it.” Danny shifts, crossing his arms and perching against the hood of the Camaro. “Sabrina was in a car accident. She’s okay. Broke her leg though, so Max wanted to be there when she got out of hospital.”

Steve frowns, whether at the baby, still fast asleep in his car-seat, or at the news about Sabrina. Probably both. He’s vibrating with nervous energy, gaze flicking between the school steps and his snoozy son. “You sure she’s alright?”

“Yeah, she’s okay.” Danny squeezes Steve’s arm. “Some schmuck t-boned her on the way home from work, his BAC was through the roof.”

Steve’s frown turns downright stormy. “We get him?” 

Sabrina is Ohana, plain and simple, and Steve’s months away seem to have changed him from _fiercely protective_ to _full-on grizzly bear_. The fact that she helps Five-0 with their tax returns is just the icing on the cake.

“Oh yeah,” Danny says, feeling victorious. “We got him good.”

Before Steve can reply, the school bell tolls, a deep and heavy ringing. Doors skitter open, ricocheting off walls, and children’s voices grow louder and louder like a flock of birds leaving the canopy.

“She really has no idea?”

Danny smiles, because Steve doesn’t even know that he’s taken a few steps forward, drawn to an imminent force.

“Most well kept secret on the island. The Navy has good timing, too, school holidays kick in next week. Rach shuffled around her trip to London so that Grace can stay with us for a few days.” 

“Thank her for me,” Steve says, only half of his wits on the conversation at hand. Kids are beginning to stream out of the school, and his quick-as-a-fox eyes are darting amongst the crowd. 

“You can thank her yourself,” Danny replies. “She’ll be there tonight.” 

Tonight, being Steve’s welcome-home party. The _not_ so well-kept second secret – Danny wouldn’t be surprised if half the Navy was flying home from the Gulf for the occasion. Such is life when Kamekona is in charge of the ice. 

Any attention that Steve was paying their discussion evaporates at the sight of Grace coming down the school steps. Danny isn’t too sure what to expect, because Grace has been going through a cool-phase lately, shying away from kisses and cuddles when surrounded by her friends. Danny gets it, but it’s still a punch to the belly.

He needn’t have worried. Grace’s face lights up like the sun when she spies Steve, and she drops her schoolbag on some poor kid’s foot in her haste to scuttle down the stairs. 

“Uncle Steve, Uncle Steve!” she shouts, wrapping her skinny little arms around his shoulders when he stoops over. Long gone are the days when he has to crouch for a hug, and Danny is so, so glad that she inherited Rachel’s height.

Grace isn’t one for crying, never has been. But as she presses her face to Steve’s neck, it’s obvious that she’s trying to get a handle on herself. Eventually she pulls away, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re okay,” against the whiskers on his cheek.

By the time they make it home, the party is already in full-swing. It looks an exhausting prospect, even if it is made up of happy loved ones. 

Danny kills the engine, sits and stares at the people milling around on the front lawn, knows there’ll be even more grilling out the back. He can feel Steve’s weariness radiating from the passenger seat, and a quick glance in the rear-view mirror shows Grace curling protectively around Alika’s car-seat. 

Like an angel, Chin strolls down the front path, the necks of two Longboards held loosely between his fingers. 

“It’s alright, guys,” he says softly, as Steve and Danny haul themselves out of the car. “Kono and I, we’ve got this. Get Alika into bed, and then Steve can sneak off for a swim.”

Steve relaxes at the prospect of the ocean, months with the Navy having done nothing to diminish his affection for his beloved little cove.

Chin’s plan is easier said than done. Everybody wants to slap Steve on the back, ask a million well-meaning but exhausting questions. The baby is the perfect excuse for a speedy retreat, because it’s obvious that he needs his bed, pronto.

By the time they get Alika under the covers, Danny isn’t sure that Steve’s not going to join him, pretzel himself up into the tiny kiddy-bed and stay there forever. He looks tired, hands constantly stroking Alika’s hair, or rubbing his back.

“You’ll feel better once you swim,” Danny whispers, drawing Steve out of the room and gently bringing the door to.

“I’ll feel better once I do this.” With little fuss, Steve presses himself to Danny’s front, curling over him and nudging forward until they bump against the wall. They kiss, deep and noisy, and Danny’s glad to feel that Steve’s lips aren’t so dry anymore. In fact, they even taste a little sweet.

“Grace gave you her chapstick, didn’t she?” Danny tilts his head back to let Steve suck on the sensitive skin beneath his ear. 

“ _Gave_?” Steve pauses in his ministrations, hot breath whispering over Danny’s skin. “More like sold. She’s turning into quite the little mob boss, going to own my car soon if I’m not careful.”

“What was the… the… god. Yes.” Danny groans, slotting his hips against Steve’s thigh, seeking a relief that they just don’t have time for right now. “What was the going rate?”

Steve nuzzles his way along Danny’s cheek, bumping their noses together. “She made me promise not to go away again.”

Danny’s heart feels like it’s squeezing in his chest. He pulls back to peer through the low light at Steve’s face. Goofy, and yet so stupidly handsome, with his stern nose and those pretty eyes that flash and sparkle. His cheeks are whiskered, black and silver stubble that catches on Danny’s palms when he reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw. 

“That’s a pretty big promise for something as little as a chapstick.”

Steve shrugs casually, but the line of his shoulders is riddled with tension. “I would’ve done it for a lot less.”

-

Kono, bless her boots, kicks everybody out by midnight. Steve had been a lot more willing to face the happy hoards once he’d finished his swim, but as the hours drew on and the beers took their toll, it became obvious the peace and quiet was needed.

“Don’t move,” she orders, shoving Steve onto the couch. “We’ve got this.” 

As though on cue, Cath emerges from the kitchen, empty trash bags dangling from her fingers and a determined look on her face. She passes one to Kono, then to Chin, then outright corners Kamekona by the front door.

“Don’t even think about it,” she snips. “Even Sabrina insisted on drying the dishes, and she’s in her wheelchair. You’re not getting off that easy.”

From his perch on the edge of the couch, Danny watches in rapt attention, shoveling corn chips into his mouth. He’s not really a betting man, but he knows where he’d put his money in this particular skirmish. 

Sure enough, Kakemona accepts a trash bag.

Sighing deeply, Danny makes to heave himself up and help, but he freezes when Chin glowers at him. 

“Sit,” Chin says, pointing his finger sternly.

Danny grumbles out a, “Bossy,” but he slumps down against Steve’s side with no further protest. He doesn’t need to be told twice, and he flicks the television on for a bit of unwinding.

It doesn’t take long for the house to return to sparkling, paper cups and beer bottles finding their way into separate bags. Danny now knows more about recycling than he ever dreamed possible, thanks to Kono.

Steve is just nodding off when there’s a wail from Alika’s bedroom. It’s piercing, achey and heartbroken, and Steve bolts upstairs before Danny can calm him down. Night terrors have been a thing, lately, but Danny could never bring himself to mention them - not while Steve was thousands of miles way.

Feet thump along the hallway, and Steve emerges at the top of the stairs with a violently wriggling Alika in his arms. 

“Danno, Danno,” Alika begs, and Steve pounds down the stairs to deliver the baby speedily into Danny’s arms. A second later and he’s off like a shot, seeking sanctuary in the kitchen. He comes to a stop in front of the sink, hands braced on the bench and head held low.

Cath reaches for Alika, her voice soft and sad. “You want me to…?”

“No.” Danny adjusts the baby on his hip, juts his chin towards Steve. “Maybe you should talk to him?”

It used to bother Danny, the impenetrable bond that Steve and Cath shared, always on the outside looking in at their history. Sure, he knew what it was like to put on a uniform, to belong to a group of people connected by strength and purpose and loss. But for all that he’d learned about the Navy, there was something about being a part of that monolithic and yet tight-knit entity that he could never understand. 

It had taken time to accept that there were conversations with Steve that he could never have. Conversations that he could never fully grasp, about tours and life at sea, and waking up to morning Kabul sunshine. 

After acceptance had come appreciation, and he’s never felt it more than now, comforted as he watches Cath walk towards the kitchen. 

She’s been invaluable these last few months. Even though it doesn’t take a genius to see why Steve is upset – Alika is still clinging to Danny’s side, whimpering his name – Cath knows best what it’s like to come home to family after months away.

By the time she emerges from the kitchen, Danny’s half asleep on the couch and the cousins are long gone. He startles at the sound of the door, and Alika stirs against his chest. Together, they blink themselves to wakefulness.

“See you, Danny,” she says, ruffling his hair. “See you, sweetheart.” A swooping kiss is pressed to Alika’s cheek.

Danny thinks he mumbles something, but he’s not too sure. Damn, he’s tired. His neck feels like concrete, body eight different kinds of weary, but he perks up when Steve walks towards the couch.

“Daddy,” Alika says, happily. He stretches his arms out at Steve, wanting to be picked up. Steve hesitates, so Alika just strains forward even further. “Daddy daddy!”

It takes a bit of coordination, which isn’t Danny’s strong suit when he’s half asleep, but he manages to sit, lifting the baby up. “His royal nibs has spoken.”

Steve takes Alika, holding him away from his chest like a foreign object that may bite. Fear of rejection is painted across his face, as though he’s scared that if he bundles Alika in too closely he’ll only be pushed away again. It’s hardly the baby’s fault, of course, but Danny doesn’t want to see Steve hurt.

“Hey daddy,” Alika chirps, his toothy grin bright enough to light the darkened room. “You’re here. I see you. I missed you.”

Fear bleeds out of Steve in an instant, replaced by the kind of happiness that Danny hasn’t seen since that morning in the hospital, powerful arms cradled around a tiny wriggling newborn. “Hey baby,” Steve says, and his grin isn’t quite as cute as Alika’s, but it’s a near thing. “I see you, too.”

Sitting up may have taken a bit of effort, but getting comfy on the couch is like second-nature. Danny scoots to the left, the old cushions whooshing air when Steve plonks down by his side. They barely have a chance to get settled before Alika is talking a million miles an hour.

“We have to see the tigers! And the fishy-zoo. The penguins had babies! And shave ice! Lots of flavors, I’m Kammy’s tester tasty.”

“Taste tester,” Danny chimes in.

Alika flaps his hands, sitting down on Steve’s lap and getting comfortable. “Yeah, that. And, and, and…” he winds on, condensing six months of want into five minutes of excitable demands. It’s not that Danny wouldn’t have taken him to the aquarium, of course, but Alika had developed a staunch “wait for daddy” attitude during Steve’s absence. 

The warmth radiating from Steve is the best soporific, and the sound of he and Alika discussing plans is immensely comforting. Danny feels heavy, slumping further into the cushions as though they want to swallow him whole.

Steve snorts. “Nice to see some things never change.” 

Danny blinks in confusion. Just how long has he been out? Alika is fast asleep on Steve’s chest, and looks as though he has been for quite some time. 

Steve nods at the television. 

A chipper voice is talking softly through the dimmed speakers. “Gold savings accounts. Gold investment accounts. Gold IRA accounts.”

“Oh god,” Danny groans, scrubbing a hand over his face, even as the happy blonde woman carries on with, “U.S coins, international coins, certified coins.” 

The horrors of nighttime television. He can’t believe he ever used to find this more conducive to sleep than the sound of the ocean. Sure, a part of his heart will always be geared to the heartbeat of the city, shouting drunks and wailing sirens, but the waves are kind of calming once you get used to them.

“That’s enough out of you.” Danny fumbles for the remote, jammed somewhere between the armrest and his ass, and the woman zips to a black screen. The room slips into darkness, the only light puddles of moonlight that refract through the windows.

“We should get him to bed,” Danny whispers, patting Alika’s back, but his words are slurred by a giant yawn. He had plans for tonight, naked-and-sweaty plans, but damn if more sleep doesn’t sound like a good idea.

Steve purrs, a contented rumbling noise. “Couch is good.” He lists sideways, his mind obviously already made up.

It takes a bit of finagling, but they manage to tangle themselves down until they’re spooned along the length of the couch, one-two-three happy heartbeats. Danny feels vaguely like they’re a set of nesting dolls, big-Steve warm against his back, medium-Danny snuggled in the middle, tiny-Alika tucked against his front. 

“Yeah,” Danny says, eyes already feeling heavy again. “Couch is good.”


End file.
